Legends
by Santoka
Summary: They were only legends. But in these times, when there was only the Grey and the Cold, legends were all he had. / Fantasy-AU; Series of One-Shots; no pairings; rated T for mentions of violence
1. Legends

Greetings :)

Last evening I had a writing flash (finally!) and produced this practically overnight (ugh, sleep...). I really love fantasy-AUs so maybe there will be more. This is a One-Shot though. I don't plan to make this into a multi-chapter story.

Just so you know, Sora is somewhere near 9 or 10 years old.

I haven't proof-read this, so if anyone finds mistakes please tell me. I won't notice by myself for a long time otherwise.

Disclaimer: Suprise, suprise I don't own anything. Meh.

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**_Legends_**

**_._**

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They were legends.

Stories parents told their children in nights when the Cold became too much and the Grey became unbearable and swallowed everything that was good in this world.

The nights were always there, the parents brave enough to counter them with these stories though were a rare occurrence. Sooner or later everyone fell victim to the hopelessness of the eternal Night. Sooner or later everyone broke under the constant cold and the Grey. The world was dying and with her everything that called her their home.

But the legends… the legends were what was left of the life-force and hope in their dying world. The great stories from before the Night, even from before the Golden Age, from a time so different from theirs that nobody could really comprehend them. In that time where kingdoms and kings long forgotten had wrought wars against each other for centuries, where peace had been a dream only the dead could afford to have and where the blood hat tinted the skies red.

The world had been dying back then as much as it did now, although for very different reasons.

While then there had been too much red, now there was only the Grey that had swallowed all the colors long ago. While there had been too much fire and burning hate now there was only the cold that froze one's body and mind in equal terms. While there had been too much violence and war now there was just lethargy and a slow languishing like poison or a pestilence.

Back then there had been a salvation from all the violence and the war and the destruction. Born into that time of blood had been a boy so pure and innocent like the wide, clear sky. So big had been his heart and so strong his will, that he hadn't been corrupted by those around him and had instead searched and found others like him, cleansed their hearts and formed bonds so strong and unbreakable that they withstood all the violence and chaos. He gathered a big group around him and even though every one of them would have gladly laid down their lives for him, there were seven he cherished like brothers and who loved him as fiercely as he loved them.

And with time they changed the hearts of the others, taught them about love and respect and brought peace into that war-ridden world. But even though the people settled down and healed the land they had abused with their warmongering couldn't. The fire had charred the earth far too long now and the blood had polluted the sky and left it bleeding itself.

So the boy made the ultimate sacrifice and gave up his life and his pure soul to cleanse the land from all the sins and the injuries. The seven, not able to life with their brother gone forever went with him and so they all gave up their souls and merged with the very fabric of the world itself. The earth healed and sprouted life again and the sky changed from the wounded, bloody red to a clear, pure blue, as open and wide as the boys heart had been, welcoming to all. His brothers still protected him and kept him company – may it be as a rolling storm, lazily drifting clouds or just by shining their bright light, as the sun did.

Sora let his fingers glide hesitantly over the smooth stone surface. He'd been named after this sky the stories told of (because his eyes were blue, his parents said and he felt irrationally proud at that fact, even though he'd never seen it) and he'd always listened intently when his parents retold those legends to him and his little sister Kaede, who normally sat on his lap cuddling, instinctively trying to get warm. He didn't understand many of the descriptions, but he always felt a flutter of hope in his stomach. He wasn't old enough to remember a time before the Night, so he didn't know anything else beside Grey and Cold. By the time he had been born the sky had already dimmed to the dull grey it now was and all the colors had fled, together with the storms and the clouds and the sun. He'd never seen anything like the green of the grass or the red of a sundown and although his parents gave their best, he'd never been really warm in all his life. The concept of fire was foreign to him and he couldn't help but fantasize about it whenever he got the chance.

Again he touched the stone walls lightly, feeling their cold smoothness under his fingertips. There were darker spots, as if someone had painted something onto the stone. Sora squinted and tried to distinguish shapes in the dim not-light. It seemed to be a written text and Sora let it be. He couldn't read, like most of his peers. Between fighting for life and fighting against each other was no time to learn something that was nearly impossible due to the bad lighting.

Looking up from the text and trying to discern which way to go the young boy slowly padded forward, fingers never leaving the stone surface and naked feet making slapping noises on the cold floor. There was a lot of rubble and dust, but that was no wonder, given the fact that this temple was abandoned for over fifty years now. Maybe it was even the last one – _they_ had made sure to destroy everyone _they_ found. This one probably only still existed because it was such a small one, that even before _they_ came and the Night began the people had forgotten it – or so his grandfather said, one of the last ones to remember that time.

There were other shapes on the walls now, pictures that looked like men with spears and swords and some figures looked as if in great pain. Sora wondered if they were drawn in color. Again he let his fingers glide over the pictures, as if hoping to feel the colors when he couldn't see them.

It didn't work and Sora continued his march into the even darker darkness of the temple. All the while he kept his eyes glued onto the walls, trying to find even one little bit of color on it.

So focused he was, that his normally nimble feet got caught onto one of the boulders lying on the floor, sending him crashing face-first to the ground. Catching himself out of reflex with his arms Sora avoided losing a few teeth and a bloody lip but scrapped his hands against the sandy stone floor. A hiss of pain escaped his lips, both from his stubbed toe and the now slightly bleeding hands but every swear word that lay on his tongue died a silent death at the sound of falling stones not too far behind him.

Ice cold fear gripped Sora's heart in a vice-like grip. If _they_ somehow followed him…

Without moving even an inch Sora peered behind him at the dark, searching for every sign of a black cloak or bone-pale bandages, ears open for every sound like the jingling of chains, the swishing of fabric…

After what felt like ages of not moving, all senses stretched as wide as they could Sora allowed himself to relax and get up from his uncomfortable position. When you grow up in a world that is almost dead you learn pretty quickly that fear is a weakness you can't afford to have if you want to live. But _they_, the dark Ones, the _Vindice_, they managed to inflict fear even in the most cold-blooded street fighter.

They were the ones that darkened the sky and brought the cold and the Grey. They were the ones who sucked the life out of their world and made it so that it's always night and always dark, that there is no more fire and no more color.

Nobody knew why or how they did it. They came like shadows and they were evasive like shadows and whoever approached them too far or was deemed a threat was swallowed by the dark and never seen again. Everywhere they went they left Death and the lingering feeling of fury and revenge behind. They were like the Dark incarnate and Sora wanted them _gone_.

Now shivering all over (from fear and nerves, the cold long ago stopped bothering him that much) Sora proceeded walking, no longer paying attention to the paintings on the wall, desperate to reach the inner sanctuary, before they actually found him. He had made his decision and he couldn't afford to be stopped now.

No, he wouldn't be stopped. He knew what to do and he would do it, for the sake of his parents and for the rest of his poor, dying world.

Determination quickened his steps until he was nearly running, jumping over rubble and slipping on the sandy surface. The long tunnel opened into a large room, pillars supporting a high ceiling with an altar opposite of the tunnel-opening and Sora knew he was in the sanctuary. Abruptly he stopped his mad run, not wanting to be impolite and walked at a more sedate pace to the altar, eyes fixed onto the wall behind the low stone table. Even from this distance he recognized the painting:

Seven people, all of them with proud and regal figures and at the same time appearing friendly and inviting. They stood in a half circle and behind them were other people, emitting the same feeling of friendliness and dignity if less pronounced. And in the middle, surrounded by them all was a person so radiant and pure, even without the effects of color, that Sora had no doubt that this was the boy from the legends, who became the sky and healed the world from her deadly injuries centuries ago.

Sora stood there, entranced and fascinated, drinking in every centimeter of the drawing and reveling in the feeling of hope that suddenly made his previously heavy heart by far lighter.

Yes, his decision was the right one. Here, were he could feel the presence of these people, who had sacrificed themselves to safe a world from death, here he could feel relieved and contend with his choice. Here he could do the same and sacrifice himself for his world.

Slowly he walked the last meters and then knelt before the altar, dipping his head in respect for the people this temple was dedicated to, mentally going through everything his grandfather had ever said about addressing the deities. He had thought about what to say on the whole trip to the temple and was pretty sure that it was respectful enough, but he had never done something like this before and he was nervous.

When he started speaking his voice echoed in the empty sanctuary, thrown back from the high ceiling and the walls and he almsot stopped in shock. Instead he took a deep breath and continued.

"My Lords, I greet you and apologize for troubling you in these times, but my heart is heavy with grief and I don't know who to turn to but you."

Sora lifted his head and looked at the painting again, taking solace in the smiling faces.

"I am sure You already know about the condition down here, but I'm going to say it anyway: The land is dying. After You sacrificed yourselves, my Mama and Papa and grandpa say, there was a Golden Age full of peace and happiness and everything You taught them about being nice and help each other was done. But then…" Sora took a shuddering breath but went on, a fierce determination settling inside him, "But then _they_ came. The Vindice. They took away all the colors and all the warmth and they made it so that it's always night. And they killed many people and let many more die because of the Night. And now everybody who still lives loses hope and dies anyway, because this world is about to die."

Sora felt tears prick in his eyes, but he managed to hold his voice steady. "But I don't want it to!"

"I don't want this world to die! There are so many things to explore and so many things I've never seen, but they sound so beautiful when Mama and Papa tell about them, and I don't want them to just vanish! I want to see the green grass and the blue sky and if my eyes really are as blue! I want to see a storm raging, and lightning and rain. I want to see the sun, and flower and a bonfire! Yes, I want to sit around a bonfire with my family and hear songs, and laugh with them and be warm and see the stars, like grandpa told me! I don't want this all to end before it really started!"

By now there were tears streaming down his face, leaving cold trails behind, but he didn't care. A small part of him wondered if he was disrespectful by shouting and he took a moment to compose himself. When started speaking again it was in a quiet tone.

"I don't want it to end." he repeated. "But I don't know how to stop it, how to stop _them_. I'm just a little boy. I'm not special or pure or something like that. I don't have a special ability and I'm not innocent. I have stolen, everybody does that, but that doesn't make it better. And maybe I have even killed somebody, I don't even know for sure. So, I don't know what I could do to stop them."

"But You, You already saved the world. You're special and You're innocent and real heroes! You would know what to do and You could save the world again!"

Sora knelt even deeper and touched the cold stone floor with his forehead.

"Please," he begged. "Please help us! I know it's not fair to ask you of something like that, especially after everything You already did, but please, please safe us! This world can't die yet! Please!"

He waited like that, eyes closed shut and breathing heavily. The drip, drip of his tears against the floor was the only sound in the sanctuary. The silence was deafening after his little speech and with each second ticking by Soras heart grew heavier.

After a few minutes of waiting Sora straightened and released a shuddering breath. Of course they wouldn't answer to something like that. He couldn't expect them to simply swoop down and save the world again simply because some filthy boy asked them to. Everything has a prize. For everything you get you have to give something.

Slowly he reached into his tattered sleeve and pulled the knife out. It was almost warm, having been in contact with his skin for so long. Sora turned it a little bit, so that the not-light glimmered at its edge and regarded it for a few moments. It was one of the two cooking knives his mother owned. He had stolen it yesterday evening, when nobody was looking. This one his mother used for meat at the rare times they had some. It wasn't that sharp, its cutting edge dulled by the many usages. He'd have to use a lot of strength, to…

His voice was a whisper now, sending haunting echoes around the sanctuary.

"I knew it wouldn't be this easy. After all, last time you all gave your life, so… I guess I just hoped- I just really wanted to see it. The sky and the light and all the colors… It doesn't matter now. I knew it would end like this. Some things just aren't meant to be, it seems. Kaede will have to see it all for me. And Mama and Papa. They can't remember anything from before the Night. And grandpa will be so _happy_. He's on the verge of giving up and let go, I just know it. So they'll have to be happy for me, too. They'll be happy."

Once again he looked at the painting, eyes locked at the man in the middle, the sky.

"I can't offer you much. I don't have any riches and I don't have any food, but I don't think You'd want that anyway. All I have to offer is me. As I said, I'm not pure and I'm not innocent, but… it's all I have. I really hope it is enough." He made a last bow to the painting. "Please, help them, save this world and make them happy!"

Then he straightened again and gripped the knife with both hands. They were shaking and he took a deep breath and willed them to stop. He couldn't show weakness now. This was for his families' happiness. This was for his world! Was his resolve that weak?

He took another deep breath and closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to look at the painting anymore, at those eyes who seemed so friendly and inviting and yet so disapproving all of the sudden. And he couldn't bear to look at the knife. He did the right thing. He did the right thing! He had to do this, for the sake of his family!

He took another deep breath. Right. The knife. Best he go for the heart. Quick and painless… hopefully. And hopefully he didn't get diverted by the rips. Maybe he should set it directly on the skin. He could aim wrong.

Shivering Sora guided the cold tip of the knife to rest directly over where he thought his heart was. He could feel it beating anyway, loud and strong. Not much longer.

Sora willed his hands to stopped shaking and directed his last thoughts to his family. To his frail but strong grandpa. To his parents, who loved each other dearly but were losing hope. To his little sister with the bright hair he always thought had to be the color of sunshine. Now he'd never find out.

_Stop it!_, he scolded himself. _Don't make this any more difficult. _

So instead he took another deep breath and searched for what his grandpa called inner peace. He deliberately calmed his breathing and his shaking hands and searched deep inside himself for some peace.

And suddenly he was warm. And not just almost warm, but _warm_. From his toes to his fingertips spread a sudden warmth, nearly a heat engulfing him with a feeling that was entirely new to him, but so pleasant that a unbidden smile crept onto his face. So that was warmth. It was wonderful.

He took aim.

A picture appeared before his inner eye. It was light, with a warm color that reminded him of late afternoons and a setting sun he'd never seen. It flickered gently and the heat doubled, but not uncomfortably so.

_So that is how fire looks. It's more beautiful than I thought._

Without another thought he collected strength in his arms and pushed the knife towards his heart-

Only to be intercepted by a warm hand on his.

Sora jerked and tore his eyes open. _What- _

He looked at the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. A soft, delicate face, spiky, soft hair in the color of sweet cocoa, eyes, so open and entrancing that Sora couldn't help but gape and stare. This man struck him as familiar but at the same time he couldn't remember to have ever met somebody so… ethereal.

"Don't do that, please. There is no need to spill yet even more blood."

The voice was as soft as his eyes and Sora couldn't bring himself to react, still staring openmouthed. Only as the stranger took with gentle but firm fingers the knife Sora still tightly gripped in his hands and threw it behind him on the floor, where it landed with a metallic clatter, he managed to produce a slightly breathy "What?".

"Tch, he doesn't seem that intelligent now. Maybe his brain got fried."

Sora snapped his head to the direction of this new voice and almost keeled over from shock. There were people standing around him and the soft-eyed stranger, positioned all over the room and observing him with diverging degrees of interest. The one who had spoken had his arms crossed and held an odd mixture of disdain and fondness in his sea-foam colored eyes.

At this observation it hit Sora with yet another revelation: There were colors. And light. Evenly spread around the room were seven bowls and within each flickered a different colored flame, merrily dancing and casting colorful light on the men (and one woman) scattered in the sanctuary.

Sora registered somewhere in his mind that he was still gaping, but couldn't change it. This was just too much.

"Hm, really not that intelligent it seems. Looks as if he's trying to catch flies." drawled the teenager leaning on the altar. He had wavy dark locks and his startling eyes (the one that wasn't closed, anyway) were the color of leaves in the summer. They seemed to spark, even though the teen seemed almost bored.

Sora shut his mouth with a click at this comment, as the soft eyed one answered with: "Don't be so mean, Hayato, Lambo. He's been through a lot and this must be quite a shock to him." The stranger laid a hand onto Sora's head and ruffled his hair slightly. "Ne, Sora-kun?"

Sora found that he still couldn't react other than blinking. One of the men, with dark hair and a smile that made Sora want to smile back laughed cheerfully, making the sanctuary ring with echoes.

"Haha, he really seems to be shocked. We're not that strange, are we?"

The one with the sea-foam eyes directed his attention to the smiley one and Sora found himself slightly relieved. "Baka, of course eight people appearing out of nowhere are strange. And with you laughing like the idiot you are all the time I'd gape too."

While the smiley one just laughed, one of the others, with dark hair the color of ripe grapes and two different eyes (one like blood, the other like the deep sea) chuckled darkly. There was a girl standing beside him, that looked as if she was his younger sister.

"Kufufufu, dear Tsunayoshi-kun, it really seems as if he's a little dense. One should think he'd have expected something like this. He's the one who literally begged us to come."

Sora felt a shiver wandering up his spine as the mismatched eyes focused on him, mockingly amused. But then realized what the creepy man had said and his mouth fell open again. "You- you mean you're- you're-"

Before he could embarrass himself even more the soft-eyed one took his hand from Sora's head and gave a small bow that had him gaping even more and left the sea-foam-eyed spluttering something about degrading himself, that the soft-eyed one ignored with a small smile.

"Ah, sorry, I forgot to introduce us. I'm Tsunayoshi, but you can call me Tsuna. The scowling one with the silver hair and the green eyes is Hayato, the smiling one is Takeshi and white haired one with the bandages is Ryohei."

Said person pumped his fist and very nearly yelled: "It's extremely good to meet you, Sora!"

The boy didn't respond, ogling the tall man in awe. He looked so strong with all the muscles! Surely he'd never lose a street fight.

"Well, the two over there are Chrome and Mukuro", the soft-eyed – no, Tsuna – continued, indicating the two siblings with the grape-hair. Sora noted that the girl had an eye-patch over her right eye. She was very pretty. "And that is Lambo." The teenager at the altar opened one eye and blinked lazily, said "Yo" and closed it again, seemingly not caring about Sora or the rest.

"Lastly, the one standing over there is Kyouya.", Tsuna said and gestured to a corner lying in shadows. Sora squinted and recognized the tall frame of a man and the glinting of something metallic. He quickly averted his eyes, feeling like a lamb being observed by a hungry lion.

He looked to Tsuna again and the young man sent him a dazzling smile, almost blinding Sora and leaving once again a warm feeling in his chest. "It's nice to meet you, Sora-kun."

Once again Sora snapped his jaw shut and tried himself at speaking, his voice shaking slightly: "You… you're the ones from the legends. You're the ones who saved the world back then, the ones who became the sky and the storm and the sun… You're the Seven and the boy with the pure heart, like the sky, Tengaku-sama! You really came!"

Now he knew why Tsuna seemed familiar. The picture didn't do him justice, but there was an undeniable similarity.

Said man scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly and Sora observed with fascination the blush spreading across his cheeks. "I'd really prefer you wouldn't call me that. Just call me Tsuna. It's kind of embarrassing…"

The one with the smile, Takeshi, laughed again and then slung his arm around the shorter mans shoulder. "Haha, but Tsuna, it's the truth. I don't know anybody else who hates fighting as much as you do and has such a kind heart. You shouldn't be embarrassed."

Hayato, the scowling one, took an irate step towards Takeshi. "Baka, that's why Tsuna-sama is Tsuna-sama. Of course he should be remembered as a hero and worshipped as one."

Tsuna watched on with a strangely pained expression, as if he'd heard these words a lot and didn't really agree. "Hayato…"

"Kufufufu, before you two start fighting again I want to get out of here. This place stinks like a tomb." Mukuro wrinkled his nose and regarded the room with disdain.

"Pineapple head is right," exclaimed Ryohei, his voice as loud as ever. "It's extremely stuffy in here!"

Mukuro stopped looking around and fixed the muscle-y man with a glare and a twitch in his blood-colored eye. "Pineapple head?" Sora noticed that the girl seemed to suppress a giggle.

They were interrupted by a gruff voice from the shadows. "Hn, crowding herbivores." Kyouya, the man whom Sora had almost forgotten, pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning against and made his way to the tunnel that led to the exit. Mukuro "kufufu"ed and followed him after a few moments, the girl, Chrome, trailing closely behind.

Hayato turned at their retreating form and raised a fist. "Oi, what do you think you're doing, bastards?"

They ignored him and were soon swallowed by the darkness of the tunnel.

Tsuna sighed and turned to leave too. "It's okay, Hayato. I don't like it in here too. But we better don't lose them, who knows what they'd do otherwise. Let's follow them."

"H-hai, Tsuna-sama." Hayato hurried at the young man's side, seemingly not wanting to be left behind. Takeshi once again laughed and followed at a more sedate pace. "Let's go, Lambo."

The teen grunted and strolled after them.

At that moment Tsuna seemed to notice something and stopped, turning around and looking back. "Sora, don't you want to come along. You can't stay here."

Sora blinked and felt as if he got out of a trance. Realizing that he still knelt on the floor before the altar he hurried to stand up and performed a flustered bow. "H-hai, Tengaku-sama."

Tsuna blinked, obviously taken aback and then corrected him. "Ah, please, don't call me that. As I said, just call me Tsuna."

Sora faltered and then bowed again. "Hai, Tsuna-sama."

Said man heaved what appeared to be a resigned sigh and then motioned for the boy to come along. "Let's go. I'm not entirely comfortable with leaving Mukuro and Kyouya alone for so long."

Hayato snorted and then the little group proceeded towards the exit a little bit faster than before. Sora followed in a daze, now and then stumbling over the rubble. He couldn't believe it. They really came. He walked with the Seven and Tengaku-sama. They really answered his plea for help, and now everything would get better, he was sure of it.

The small part of his brain that was not filled with awe commented on how … different these people were. It wasn't the looks, beautiful as they were, everyone in his own way, and it wasn't how they seemed to glow in some kind of light, that made Sora feel warm and safe and that lit the dark hallway enough to really see something. No, it was their behavior. They bickered a lot, Hayato seemed to be rash and easy to anger, Takeshi was almost stupidly cheerful and Mukuro and Kyouya were downright scary, but all of them seemed to have a bond that was hard to describe. They seemed to be perfectly comfortable around each other, completely in tune- heck, they even moved concerted. Sora didn't even have this kind of harmony with his sister, and they were exceptionally close, especially in these times of backstabbing and not-caring.

The legends really were true.

They reached the exit and Sora couldn't help the stab of disappointment as they stepped into the not-light of the Night. Of course it wouldn't be better instantly, but a small part of him had hoped.

A small sigh of relief came from his right as Tsuna spotted Kyouya, Mukuro and Chrome standing not too far away regarding the scenery and completely ignoring each other. Then the young man looked around himself and pain and sadness flashed across his features. Sora looked away and instead observed the landscape he was so accustomed to.

Barren hills, rocks sticking out of the earth like splintered teeth and a few half-dead trees, looking more like bones than anything even remotely living. And everything was grey. It wasn't pretty, but it was all Sora knew. For the others however it had to be a shock.

A rough curse travelled across the plain land and Sora knew it to be Hayato without looking up. He didn't want to see their pained faces. He'd seen enough pain to last a lifetime.

"This is bad", someone commented and Sora looked up anyway. Mukuro had his lips pressed tightly together but otherwise didn't seem faced, although he had an arm slung around Chrome who had her hands clasped around her mouth and seemed ready to cry.

In Lambo's eyes was righteous fury.

Ryohei was unnaturally quiet, Takeshi didn't smile and Hayato was still cursing under his breath. Kyouya didn't show any emotion and Sora couldn't see Tsuna's face.

He was somewhat thankful for that.

"We should decide what to do." Takeshi said, all cheerfulness gone.

Nobody answered, so Sora dared to speak up. "You can come to my house, if you want. I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind. Really, it would be an honor."

It took another few moments in which the living legends took in the state of their beloved land in silence, before Tsuna nodded. "Thank you, Sora-kun, but that won't be necessary."

"Tsuna-sama?" inquired Hayato. "Do you have a plan?"

The others looked up, regarding the young man with expectation and determination. Tsuna nodded again and finally looked up from the ground he had fixated the last minutes.

"Yes. I don't like it, but it seems we have to fight again. I won't let those Vindice destroy everything we worked so hard for. I won't let this world that we sacrificed so much for, simply die by their hands."

Sora swore he could see the flames he'd seen in the temple, moments before he had pushed the knife towards his heart, in these determined, suddenly hard eyes.

"We'll fight. But first, we have to find the others."

. . .

. .

.

Please review :)


	2. Sacrifices

Hey guys :)

Soooo... I decided to make this a series of one-shots that cover both, the story of the present (a.k.a. during 'The Night') and what happened in the past (the time the legends tell about).

This should be roughly nine chapters, always alternating between present and past.

Yes, I realize that this is technically a Multi-chapter fic then, but... I know myself. I never finish multi-chapter fics. Let's hope this method works better.

Disclaimer: I still don't own the charakters. I'm working on it though...

Regarding this chapter: It's short and it's overly dramatic. I feel very unsure about posting this but it has to be done, so... Please don't flame me.

Please note that this chapter takes place in the past. And that I don't really care about chronological order. Everything should be explained later on, but if you get totally confused to the point of frustration, please ask me :)

So, on with it.

~ Santoka

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_**Sacrifices**_

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He could feel it.

It was warm and wet and _red_. He could feel it fleeing his body, leaving it cold and numb, trickling down into the already soaked earth.

His _blood_.

It was strange. He had never liked the sight of it, or the feeling of it on his hands after he had fought (again. And again and again and _again_. It never stopped.)

But now, that he lost it so rapidly that he instinctly knew it would never come back – now he missed it's warmth the feeling of it pumping through his body with every heartbeat.

When it was gone it was cold. And that was so much worse than the warm sticky feeling of blood.

He blinked and he saw the sky. It was, as if it was mocking him with its red color and the heat that came from it. He could see it before his eyes, could taste the metallic taste on his tongue and could feel the heat – but he could never reach it.

He contemplated lifting his hand and trying, but his hands were already cold and numb and felt like lead.

He blinked again. Where did the sky start and the earth beneath him end? It was all red.

He saw something fall. A clear droplet of water, shimmering like a crystal and with a clear, blue hue. It splashed onto his cheek, feeling cool on his skin, but not cold. No, never cold.

Was it raining?

No. No, it didn't rain. It never rained. The Rain cried. Yes, that was it. The Rain was crying.

He blinked again.

Ah, there he was. His Rain. And still he was crying.

He tried to smile, because his Rain always smiled and when he couldn't, then he would do it for him, but his Rain just gave him a broken laugh and never stopped crying.

Suddenly desperate to find the others he let his eyes roam, searching for them to fill the rift that started opening in his heart.

His Storm was there so full of pain and desperation that it just ripped the hole open a little bit more. He had to take away that pain or else his Storm would start raging and wouldn't stop before he had either destroyed himself or the rest of the world.

He tried smiling again, but again, it didn't work.

His Storm let go a tear-choked sob.

"N-No… please…"

It pained him. His Storm shouldn't sound like that. Why couldn't he change it?

"Tsuna-nii…"

His Lightning was too was crying, thick sorrowful tears no child should have to cry. He lay in the arms of his Mists, clinging onto them as if he would fall apart otherwise. They didn't show it, but he knew they were crying too.

His Sun was staring, somehow managing to shine brightly even in his grief. It made him proud and wanting to cry at the same time.

"Herbivore…" his Cloud grit through his teeth. He didn't seem to mind standing close to so many people and although his features were blank except for a tiny hint of anger, he knew that this was as difficult for the solitary man as for the others.

He didn't want them to suffer. This was wrong.

" 'm so… ry." He rasped, hoping to stop their tears, visible or not, but it didn't help.

"Tsuna…"

He gathered his strength to turn his head.

Ah, his other brother. His counterpart. His steady Earth.

He was crying too and those he called family, crowded behind their leader, regarded him with eyes almost as heartbroken as those of his own family's.

He could feel the others now, all his friends and comrades standing nearby. He could taste theirs tears in the air and wanted to look at them, to assure them that everything would be alright… but his head was so heavy and he was so tired… so tired.

He blinked sluggishly against the red sky again.

His lids felt heavy too.

"Tsuna," his Earth repeated and stepped into his line of vision again, kneeling down beside his Rain. "Listen to me Tsuna."

His voice was tear-filled, too, he noticed.

"Tsuna, if you go, I will too."

He knew he should be shocked, but he didn't have the energy.

"You hear me, Tsuna? I will follow your example. After all, what is a Sky without the Earth to shine on? And what is the Earth without the Sky to give hold to? Do you understand, Tsuna? We won't let you go alone. We won't leave you."

He sounded determined.

"We will follow you. Regardless of where you go."

He didn't know why, but these words seemed to chase away the cold and suddenly the hole was a whole lot less painful.

He smiled tiredly and the Earth smiled back and moved to take his limp, bloody hand in his.

They looked at each other and he could feel his friend's determination taking hold within himself.

He could feel both families shifting closer together, agreeing and he finally noticed his own tears streaming down his cheeks.

As his Earth closed his eyes he stared at the red sky over him. The color was so wrong. His very soul rebelled against it and now he knew what he had to do.

He reached within himself, searching for his trusted companion that had helped him so much along his way, had lightened the darker passages for him and fought his foes.

The Flame pulsed gently, like a heartbeat – his heartbeat – and warmed him all the way into his fingertips, its warm orange glow chasing away the last shadows of doubt.

He knew what to do.

He once again turned his head as he felt another shift and set his eyes on the one person he had to thank for so much.

There he stood, his own family in his back, all of them gazing at him with a little bit of sorrow, but all of them smiling gently.

Only he wasn't smiling, his features troubled and incredibly open. His second sun, the one that had guided him on his way and had taught him all he had to know.

Maybe he had known all along that it would end like this. It didn't matter.

He smiled and knew the other had understood as he shadowed his eyes.

It didn't matter.

And he could feel the hole in his heart finally disappear.

.

Tsunayoshi closed his eyes for the last time and _saw_.

The wide expanse of endless blue, open and pure and accepting. Free and magnificent and gentle.

He saw storm clouds, angry and protective.

_(Tears glinted in his eyes and he didn't know if they were from sorrow, anger or determination.)_

He saw raindrops, steady and purifying.

_(He was smiling, as always, trying to soothe the other's emotions, even though there were tears streaming down his face.)_

He saw the glowing sun, warm and powerful.

_(His sorrow could be seen on his face openly, as he saw no need to hide it.)_

He saw the lightning, flashing across the sky like a playing child, but bringing destruction to those who harmed nonetheless.

_(Of course he was crying, he always did, but now there was a fierce determination underneath it.)_

He saw white clouds, drifting freely and untouchable.

_(There was anger in his eyes and unwillingness to accept the unacceptable.)_

He saw the mist, a gentle mantle that hid them all from malevolent eyes.

_(They looked lost, keeping a tight grip on each other as if not to lose this last hold.)_

And he finally felt at home.

_(And they all knew that they couldn't – wouldn't – let him leave them alone.)_

* * *

The fighting had stopped. There was no point in it anymore – _there had never been a point_.

Rage, hate and bloodlust had vanished and left emptiness and pain in its wake.

And sorrow. So much sorrow.

Tears mingled with the blood and many a person had collapsed to their knees, staining their clothes red. And nobody cared.

Because there, in their midst, was their hope, their leader, their heart, their _sky _– dying. Leaving them alone forever in this broken world with its tainted sky.

All eyes were trained on the group huddled together in the center of the battlefield, unwilling to believe what they saw, hoping against hope that the picture would change, that the desperation would disappear and that they could _breathe_ again.

But it didn't and the air around them became so heavy that it became more and more difficult to draw it into their lungs.

And then he closed his eyes with a finality and they just stopped. Because there was no point anymore.

A few heartbeats long it was as if time had stopped with them, because it too had lost its reason to.

A few moments long there was no future anymore, because now there was nothing to resolve around. Nothing to build it.

And then their vision was flooded with colors.

A mix of red, blue, yellow, green, purple, indigo and a bright, pure orange.

It flared brightly, enveloping them all and washing away the heaviness.

When it disappeared again all the blood, the fire, the destruction, the hate, the rage and the bloodlust had disappeared with it.

And the spot in the middle of the battlefield was empty.

They blinked again, looking around them at the bright green of the earth, the healthy brown of the soil beneath them, before they looked up and saw the bright blue of the sky for the first time. They let the sun shine into their newly opened eyes, searched the wide expanse over them, drinking into its sight and cried again, this time because hope had not forsaken them but had returned, to accompany and watch over them forever.

Because there, sitting proudly over their heads on its blue, blue sky, was a rainbow.

The age of bloodshed and destruction had ended.

The future had begun.

. . .

. .

.

Please tell me what you think :)


	3. Destinies

Greetings :)

Sooo... In case someone reads this: This is not the chapter I wanted to post as the third. Originally the third should have been one that starts where the first stopped, but... I just can't get it I post this, the original fourth chapter and hope that I'll get an inspiration for chapter three.

Just to clarify things, this plays in the past, the time of Sora's Legends.

Personally I like this chapter. I had fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading.

* * *

_**Destinies**_

_**.**_

* * *

Hayato weaved his way through the people with practiced ease, his precious cargo hid under his ratty clothes, tightly pressed against his skin. His dagger was strapped onto his underarm. Easily accessible but not visible.

It would only hinder him in his quest to get though the crowd.

He evaded the spiked club one of the men was waving carelessly as he hurried past, eager to get to the place of action. Hayato was sure the man would die today.

As he continued on his way a few of the men turned to look strangely at the boy who went the wrong way. Hayato made sure to lose their stares quickly, before someone caught him and forced him to fight.

He was old enough with his fourteen years, but he didn't want to. Tsuna-sama was waiting for him and he couldn't leave Tsuna-sama alone for so long. And he had to warn him, so that they could leave this town before it was razed to the ground.

And anyway, he didn't fight. He knew how, of course, and if they were attacked again because someone thought that they had something of value, then Hayato had them groveling on the floor in pain within seconds, but he'd _never _fight in one of those inane battles.

Tsuna-sama was against it and Hayato would follow Tsuna-sama into the deepest pits of hell if necessary.

As he skidded around the corner of one of the sturdy but battered brick buildings that were so popular in this town, he remembered how he had met the boy that had changed his life so much.

He had been eleven, too old to be considered a child and therefore enjoy a minor protection from all the thugs and pugnacious men that made a third of the population, but too young to be a real fighter.

It had been two months since he fled his father's house because he just couldn't take it anymore. He had been alone, hungry, somewhere he had never seen before and he had been desperate.

He had been surprisingly good at wandering around without being seen - having it practiced since he was old enough to recognize the stares of disgust and disdain he had been given at his father's house as what they were - and therefore had tried himself at theft with some very good outcomes.

That time he hadn't been so lucky and the four thugs had noticed him and then chased him into a dead end, where they had cornered him. He had been intelligent enough to recognize his defeat and had tried to give them the food back in the hoped that they would leave him alone, but the men had decided that the little boy needed to be taught a lesson.

Hayato didn't know how long they had beaten him, but he was pretty sure that they would only have stopped when he would have been dead.

As it was they had only gotten so far as to break a few of his ribs, his nose and two fingers (not counting all the bruises) before someone had stepped in. Because he had been lying in fetal position on the ground did Hayato not notice him until someone had flung themselves over him like a shield.

He had been confused but had written it off to hallucinations, especially as the thugs had started beating the other for getting into their way.

After the men had obviously lost their fun and had disappeared again Hayato got a view of his savior.

It had been a little boy, around his own age, with brown, soft eyes, equally brown and soft hair and features far too fragile to live on the streets, who had introduced himself as 'Tsuna'.

Hayato wasn't proud of what had followed and would Tsuna-sama allow it, he'd apologize every day anew for it.

Because instead of thanking him, Hayato had shoved the boy aside, not caring for the pained yelp as he fell onto a broken wrist, and had then stormed out of the alleyway with a last "Don't you dare follow me, bastard!"

He had gotten around two corners before he had collapsed.

When he had woken up again it had been in a small cave just outside the town, enveloped in blankets. Tsuna had been cooking on a small campfire and, as he had noticed that the other boy had woken up, had asked Hayato if he was feeling better, had checked his wounds, given him the broth he had cooked…

Hayato, not used to being cared for like that, hadn't answered and tried to ignore the boy and went even so far as to try to escape, but again he hadn't gotten far.

It had lasted three days; On the fourth Hayato had broken down, sobbing and asking why Tsuna was so nice to him, when all he ever did was being hostile. Why would this stranger care about him more than his own family had done?

Tsuna had only smiled and let the boy cry into his shirt until the sobs had died down to hiccups. Then he had asked if he was feeling better now and if he still wanted that stew he'd been making and Hayato had had to stop himself from starting to cry again.

That moment he had resolved to never leave Tsuna's side again. Where his own family had shunned and scorned him had this boy, a total stranger, protected him and cared for him with a friendliness that usually didn't exist in this world. This boy was special and Hayato would care for him like the treasure he was and maybe someday he could repay him.

Since then they had traveled across the country, never staying long at the same place, as the war and the destruction seemed to follow them. Hayato had found out early that Tsuna despised violence to a level that it made him sick. Hayato had taken great care to keep him away from the battles and fighting around them, but it was impossible. Not in their world, where egoism and violence where the only things the people knew.

So Hayato had taught Tsuna how to fight. Despite his resolution not to leave Tsuna alone, Hayato just couldn't stay by his side all the time. Hunting for food was much easier alone; one little, dirty boy got little to no attention at all, but two? No, they couldn't afford attention, so they were forced to split up more often than Hayato liked to and Tsuna had to be able to protect himself.

He had refused vehemently and they actually had a fight about that matter, but in the end Tsuna had relented. So Hayato had gotten him a dagger and them taught him were to put it if someone thought a little boy was an easy target.

He hadn't liked it one bit, and although he had some really good reflexes if needed, Tsuna was still clumsy and his fighting skills were meager at best. But still, Hayato felt better knowing that his comrade hat at least _little _means of protecting himself.

It had always only been the two of them. Except for this one boy, Takeshi, the son of a restaurant owner that sometimes gave them sushi for free, who lived in Tsuna's hometown, Namimori, which they visited more often than the other villages, they never had any real contact to other people.

Hayato loved Tsuna like a brother and he couldn't imagine his life without the brunette anymore. He didn't even want to imagine it. His life would be hollow, without purpose and it sent shivers down his back just by thinking about it.

Leaving his family and then being found by Tsuna was the best that had happened to Hayato in all his life and he couldn't help but wonder sometimes if the gods had been pulling the strings at that time.

He couldn't be happier about it.

He turned right into a small alleyway and hurried on.

They had camped in the outer edge of the village in one of the house- ruins. Normally they wouldn't camp so close to the people, but it had gotten colder in the last night and in the ruins they had still a few walls and a little bit roof to take shelter beneath.

Spying the house they had chosen as their temporary home he slowed his steps and called "Tsuna-sama!" as to assure the other boy that it was indeed him.

He got no reply and cautiously stepped through the half crumbles doorway. Maybe Tsuna-sama was sleeping.

They hadn't had much time for relaxation in the last few weeks as their region was once again the arena for a three-way clan-war. Two of the villages they had stopped in last month were shortly after completely burned down and this one was to be the next. Hayato had seen the first buildings burning on the other side of the town.

They would eat, maybe even nap for a few hours and then they had to leave. Fire always destroyed everything in its way, leaving behind only ashes and mourning people.

"Tsuna-sama?" he called again stepping into the area they had selected to sleep in.

There were blankets lying on the ground and a prepared fireplace for cooking, but no trace of the brown haired boy he was searching.

Fear spread through Hayato and he let the bread he had been clutching all the time fall to the ground with a dull _thump_, whirling around and sprinting out of the ruin.

"Tsuna-sama!" he called once again, fear now evident in his voice, as he raced down the street, searching for any trace of brown hair between the debris.

No, it couldn't be. Tsuna-sama would never leave just like that, without giving Hayato a sign as to where he went. But there hadn't been any signs of a struggle so maybe get some fresh air or relieve himself? But what if he went outside only to be surprised by someone? Several people would easily overpower him and could take him captive without much effort. But why would…?

Hayato skidded around a corner, almost slipping on the mud, but he caught himself again and continued scanning the ruins – only to sink to his knees as he was met by a sight that he would probably never forget in all his life.

There, standing on a pile of debris, here and there a half-destroyed wall still peeking out, was Tsuna. Except for a small, bleeding cut on his left hand and a lot of mud on his clothes he seemed to be fine, if a little unsure of himself, but he had this analyzing expression in his eyes that had Hayato sometimes wondering just what kind of mysteries exactly were hiding behind the façade of the meek, clumsy boy Tsuna displayed to most.

And there, standing before him, with and equally calculating look, was one of _them_.

He looked like a child. Small features, a head shorter than Tsuna, fragile limps, wind-blown black hair, ripped clothing…

But Hayato knew that was nothing more than a disguise, hiding the raw power, the wisdom and immortality behind mortal flesh and bones.

As he looked upon these two figures, staring into each other's eyes as if they hoped to find all the answers of the world within them – that was the moment Hayato could feel the universe _shift_.

* * *

Tsuna had busied himself with building a cooking place, trying to ignore the screams, the smell of smoke and blood that were carried over from the battlefield on the other side of the town.

It didn't work, but then again, it never did.

He had never been one to just overlook injustice and violence, as something within himself always screamed and clawed to be let out an _change it_, but there was little he could do to stop a full-blown battle between clans. Besides, even if he could, the true problem lay somewhere far deeper.

So he had suppressed all urges to do something and had instead tried to make their camping place as homey as possible with the smell of death and destruction in the air.

He had just finished stacking the wood into a neat pile and had been about to start with their bedding, as another feeling made him stop in his tracks, freezing with Hayato's blanket in his hand.

It had been faint, barely there, but it was so unnatural that Tsuna knew it was there. It was not from this world.

Like leaves swirling against the direction of the wind or water droplets flying to the sky instead of falling to the ground. It felt as if the air itself had ripped. As if reality suddenly started breaking and he whirled his head around to stare through the holes in the roof towards the sky, searching for the fine crack he was sure had to be there.

But there was nothing. Just the usual fiery, bloody red.

He once again looked around him, searching for anything unusual, but he couldn't detect anything.

Tsuna furrowed his brow. He had very sharp senses and normally noticed things nobody else did. He had realized that early, even before his mother had died and he had started living on the streets, where his sensibility had been the only thing keeping him alive most of the time. No one had wanted to burden themselves with yet another mouth to feed, but even at that age Tsuna hadn't expected them too. In this world one learned to think of oneself first to survive.

It made him sick.

Taking a last sweeping look around him Tsunan started laying out the blankets again.

Maybe the stress finally got to him. It probably wasn't good for one's mental health to be constantly on the run for six years. Hell, this whole world probably wasn't good for one's mental health.

Tsuna shook his head and focused on his work again. Hayato should come back soon and he would like to have the campsite ready by then.

The second feeling wasn't as otherwordly as the first and not at all faint.

It felt as if he was hit by lightning: Hot and with searing, white pain that shot through his head and made him cry out and double over, clenching his eyes shut. With it came a strong sense of _change_, _despair_ and _urgency_.

All his senses started screaming at him to _move_, to _search_. He couldn't stay here; he had to _go_, now, to find something.

Tsuna was stumbling out of the door before he could process the fact that he had thrown the blanket to the ground and sprinted like a madman down the slippery road. He tripped over the debris and slipped on the mud several times, but each time he was on his feet again before he was really on the ground, running onward, following the pull that tugged on his soul, that urged him to continue and not to stop, lest he lose it.

He had to hurry.

He rounded a half-crumpled wall and suddenly the pull disappeared. Tsuna was shocked enough to freeze midstep, stumbling over his own feet and just barely avoiding another headdive into the mud. he caught himself and looked around frantically, as if he could find the feeling again that way, panting in exhaustion.

He only spotted ruins and debris, scorched wooden beams and half-crumbled brick walls, but the pull didn't come back, leaving him confused and lost.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm his rapidly beating heart Tsuna again looked around and tried to sort his thoughts.

Never before he had felt something like this. Sometimes there were sudden inspirations, like when he just knew where his opponent would punch or when he had bad feeling shortly before they had a run-in with another group of thugs.

But never before had he felt this_ need_ to do something and follow his feelings. It had felt as if something else had invaded his mind, spurring him on, telling to run without permitting him to voice protest.

Still a little bit shaken Tsuna took another calming breath and then decided to climb a nearby pile of rubble, consisting out of the remains of another house to try and orient himself and then look what to do next. Although the strange pull had disappeared its aftertaste still lay in the air, a tang of exitement, change and _destiny_.

It felt like fingers on Tsuna's spine and had him shudder. No, he was sure that something was going on here. He just wasn't sure if he wanted to know what it was.

Climbing the last boulder on the top of the pile he sighed and dusted his trousers off (noticing that he had somehow managed to cut his hand during one of his falls) and turned to look around and get back his sense of direction.

Tsuna's gaze met black and he froze.

He was not alone.

There was a boy, standing just a few feet away from him, unmoving like a stature.

He looked to be about five or six years old, wearing tattered, dirty clothes like all children living on the streets. His feet were bare and he had messy hair that had the color of raven-wings.

He looked like a normal little boy but Tsuna instinctually knew that he was all but.

Maybe it was in the way that he held himself, like a king, straight-backed and confident.

Maybe it was in the raw power that thrummed in the air around him like a halo and that tasted strangely like determination.

And maybe it was in the way how those, dark, bottomless eyes seemed to scan Tsuna to the deepest part of his soul, calculating, judging and knowing, behind half lidded, almost lazy lids.

Tsuna felt himself straightening under this gaze, suppressing the shudders that itched to chase down his back. He felt as if someone was rummaging in his mind, stripping his soul bare and reading all his secrets, fears and hopes as if they were a book.

Tsuna had the urge to flee, to turn around and run, but instead he was sucked into this black gaze, not able to rip his eyes away and falling deeper into the darkness.

What he saw there was frightening and awe inspiring. First there was a great nothing. Then, in a flash of multicolored light, a beginning, an ascension and a fall. He saw power so great that it burned him like a white, hot sun. He saw timelessness and at the same time an age older than than the earth. And finally he saw destiny.

Tsuna gasped and stumbled back, not able to stand this gaze much longer, else he had a feeling that he would loose himself.

And once again there was the urge to run and never look back, to flee and hide away somewhere safe from this piercing eyes.

Tsuna didn't know why, but he stayed, gaze carefully fixed on the face of the stranger, avoiding his eyes but not backing down.

The smirk that thereon appeared on the other's lips sent ice-cold shivers all the way into Tsuna's bones, but it had a hint of approval and for a moment Tsuna could feel the universe _klick_ into place again.

"Not as wimpy as you look, I see." the not-boy drawled, dark eyes now taking in Tsuna's lanky form.

His voice was the high pitch of a little boy but there was a dangerous undertone to it that didn't fit to his physical appearance at all. It sounded like a lord, holding a knife onto someone's throat and asking, just because it was custom to, if there were any last words.

Tsuna gulped, but although he was shaking all over his body he felt strangely firm.

"Who- Who are you?"

The other's smirk widened.

He regarded Tsuna for another moment before he replied, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"You can call me Reborn."

Tsuna just dared to nod and then stood still, as the smirk on Reborn's face faded and he continued to examine him.

He flinched as suddenly Reborn snatched his left hand that had been hanging at his side, clenching and unclenching from nervousness. Reborn's fingers were as strong as steel as he held the appendage at the wrist and regarded it with the same thorough look he had been giving Tsuna earlier.

There was a light scowl on his face as he released Tsuna's hand and once again gazed at the boy, this time skeptically.

"Tch, it's really you, isn't it?"

"W-What?" Tsuna managed to stammer but he was ignored as a predatory grin stretched over Reborn's face, making him look like a panther that decided to play with its prey.

"I was right. Viper owes me."

Tsuna thought faintly that he didn't envy whoever this Viper was before the grin vanished as fast as it had appeared and Reborn looked at him menacingly.

"We have a lot of work to do. Go find the others, then we'll start training. Do you understand?"

Tsuna gulped again, feeling a sudden weight settling down onto his chest, and nodded.

"Y-Yes."

"Good."

Reborn turned around and started walking away but stopped after a few steps. Looking over his shoulder at the other boy he glowered, the warning evident in his gaze.

"And don't you dare slacking off or wasting your time dillydallying around, you hear me? I'll know if you do."

Tsuna just nodded again, this time more forceful and the menacing look changed into something more pleased with a hint of pride as Reborn turned around again, and a sudden wave of warmth flooded Tsuna.

"Good. And don't you forget it."

Then there was a flash of bright yellow and Tsuna stared at broken wood and stone with no trace of the not-boy that had been standing there not more than a few seconds ago.

As Tsuna's mind raced with more questions than he cared to process, he lifted his hand absent-mindedly to rub his chest, where the heavy warmth was still sitting, giving him a strange comfort.

He couldn't help but feel as if he had been just part of the beginning of something too grand to comprehend. Like watching the pebbles start falling that would soon cause a whole rock slide.

The noise of someone clambering up the pile of rubble interrupted his musings. Tsuna turned his head and was greeted by the sight of his silver-haired friend stumbling his way, messy haired and wide eyed.

"Tsuna-sama!" Hayato seemed to be relieved enough to start crying.

"Hayato?" Tsuna asked, confused, but was interrupted by his friend hugging him desperately.

Too shocked to react Tsuna just stared dumbly over his friends shoulder and tried to make sense of the situation.

"Hayato?" he asked again, hesitantly.

Said boy let go of him hurriedly as he seemed to notice what he did and instead grabbed his hand as he stared into Tsuna's eyes with his own suspiciously bright.

"Tsuna-sama! Are you alright? Did he do something to you? What just happened?!"

Tsuna, more confused with every passing minute replied: "I-what? I'm not hurt. Why do you ask? Wait, how long were you here anyway?"

He was ignored as Hayato seemed far too preoccupied with checking him for injuries. At the sharp intake of breath from his friend Tsuna looked down onto the hand Hayato was examining.

Puzzled at first about what was so special about it he quickly noticed what had shocked his friend like this. It was his left hand, the one Reborn had been inspecting and the skin was smooth and unblemished. The cut had disappeared.

Tsuna stared at his perfectly healthy appendage.

"What… how-?"

At this Hayato looked up and Tsuna felt scared by the fear, awe and uncertainty he saw in the green eyes.

"Tsuna-sama, do you know who that was?"

"He said his name was Reborn." Tsuna replied, unsure about where his friend aimed with the question. "But how would he-"

"No", Hayato interrupted him. "I didn't mean his name. Do you know _who _that person was?"

Tsuna, unnerved by the severity his friend displayed, shook his head.

"That," Hayato said and he seemed to fight with each word. "Was one of the Arcobaleno. One of the Ancients."

And all of a sudden Hayato's behavior made sense. Tsuna felt his knees become weak as his mind tried to grasp the meaning of this whole situation but bulged at the idea. There was a rushing noise inside his ears and warm and cold waves went through his body.

No. It just wasn't possible. It couldn't be!

"Tsuna-sama?" Hayato asked worried, but Tsuna could only stare at nothing, trying to wrap his mind around what he had learned.

"It can't be." He breathed, slightly desperate, feeling panic starting to rise, his vision blurring at the edges.

Hayato seemed to notice this and gave a tug to his firend's hand that he was still holding onto, to try and get him to focus again.

"Tsuna-sama!"

Hayato waited until the brown eyes had stopped looking so glassy and fixed onto his own green ones.

"What did he say?" he asked as he was sure that the other boy listened.

Once again Tsuna's eyes got a faraway look as he replayed his conversation he'd had with the – for a lack of a better word – with the _god_ just minutes before.

The warmth in his chest flared a little as he remembered and Tsuna felt his heartbeat calming down.

"He said…" Tsuna replied, focusing on Hayato again, his gaze sharp this time. "He told me to go find the others. And that we could start training when I found them all."

Hayato felt his own eyes widen as he understood what the other boy had implied.

"Training? Training for what? And which others?"

"I don't know." Tsuna mused. "But I guess we'll find out soon."

For a long time both boys just stood there, all thoughts about food, rest and war forgotten.

Hayato felt as if he was drowning. This wasn't supposed to happen. He and Tsuna-sama were supposed to travel around, alone, without a care in the world but about where they should sleep next and how to fill their stomachs. There wasn't supposed to be ancient, omnipotent beings popping out of thin air and giving them quests, like finding an undefined amount of people to then start training for whatever purpose. This wasn't right.

"Hayato?"

His attention snapped to Tsuna, who was smiling gently and heartwarming at him, so that all his worries suddenly seemed a lot less grave.

"Let's head back to our place and eat. Then we can decamp and start searching. We have to leave this place anyway."

"Do you have a plan where to go?" Hayato asked, calming himself. He had sworn not to leave Tsuna-sama's side, to follow him everywhere. So he would do just that.

Tsuna's inner eye was filled with images of a dark haired boy with a cheery smile that washed away worries like a gentle rain.

"Yes," he replied, feeling a strange determination. "We'll head to Namimori first."

Yes, he thought as he moved to rub his chest again, the warmth in there responding by flaring a little. He was sure this was the right path to take.

. . .

. .

.

Please tell me what you think. Good? Bad?


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